Musings
by YoBeezy
Summary: Kylo Ren lays in the snow and wonders where Ben Solo ends and he begins. Drabble.


_Kylo Ren lays in the snow and wonders where Ben Solo ends and he begins._

* * *

Looking upward from where he lay, Ben was sure the snow that was falling only moments before was now suspended, midair. Yet the icy atmosphere hadn't left, in fact, it seemed to have only gotten colder in the passing seconds. It could have been the snow that was slowly melting its way into his neckline, or the gaping wounds that seethed in places he could only guess from within the coming numbness, or it could have been just him, from someplace deep inside. Beneath him, the base gave another tremendous churning and somewhere in the distance another ravine gaped wider.

He knew he didn't have much time left, though he hadn't witnessed it himself, he knew the Resistance had triumphed over the First Order. Easily, too. Was all of his work for nothing? Was the plotting and the training and the constant ebb of pain eating him away at night worth this? He had been overtaken by the amateur force wielding girl with his grandfather's own lightsaber, not a very fitting end for one who had endured as much as he had. Though, speaking of. Ben carefully brought his hands together across his chest, he removed a glove and then tenderly prodded at his face with numb fingers. The skin around the wound was ragged and tough, the wound itself having been cauterized the moment it made contact with the lightsaber. He winced, " _damn,_ this hurts".

His cheek wasn't his own then, it had lost all feeling and for all he knew he was poking about the bark of a fallen tree somewhere near his head. Probably for the better, he desperately wanted to wash away the phantom touch of his late father, a warmth that seemed seared into his skin permanently. But he knew better than that, as long as he lived he'd remember that touch. It wasn't like many people caressed his face, for all he remembered this could have been the first time since before the slaughter that he'd been touched so softly. And he'd remember that long drawn out gaze too, probably even after he'd died. It would haunt him for eternity.

Ben was sure that killing his father would be the answer to his problems. Snoke himself had told Ben that Vader could have succeeded if he had been able to kill his son, that sentimentality was a prison, and yet after Ben had thrust his saber forward, there was no triumph within him. He had done what even his grandfather could not but the only thing Ben felt in that moment was something he could only call regret. Maybe his father was right, maybe there was just too much light within him. He had gone countless times to ask for help trying to vanquish those feelings, and yet they never subsided. Maybe they couldn't. Maybe he had been wrong and after all this time Kylo Ren was still, at his core, Ben Solo.

Ben groaned and tried to sit up. Useless. A fresh surge of blood oozed out from under his vest and he lied back down. Another deep tremble from inside the planet gurgled upwards from the rift near his feet, and he thought that it sure was taking its time to end.

He thought about dying for a moment, about how most people lucky enough with time to spare before they pass often times consider their life. He wondered if maybe he should too. In this brief private moment before the end of the world, within the safety of his own mind, he tried to think about what life would have been like had he not turned to the Knights of Ren. Sometimes in his dreams he heard the sound of panicked frenzy, saw the whites of their eyes and the gape of their mouths. Sometimes he saw his mother, sitting across a wide room with a distinct look of pride and devastation meant for him to see (a look that might have been drawn from some distant childhood memory, but he couldn't be sure). And sometimes he saw nothing. That's as much as he had to recall, just fragments of dreams. There was no timeline of his in the entire universe that didn't end with him in this spot, with the same wounds, and the same internal struggle between what they thought was right and what he thought was right. But people like his father wouldn't ever understand. Kylo Ren didn't have a past, he had a future. One with glory, one flushed with power. He had worked tirelessly to erase Ben Solo, those old memories included. But sometimes he faltered, he wasn't good enough yet. It was only in weak moments such as this he gave in to that small thumping sensation in his chest and felt that it might have been nice for just once to see something other than the bleak and cold landscapes that filled his head and heart. What that could have been for someone such as himself though, he had no idea.

"You would have made this much easier if you had chosen to die with some dignity," a cold voice slithered in and woke Ren out of his slight delirium.

Trying hard to hide the quake in his voice, Ren grit his teeth together and hissed, "if Snoke had wanted that, I probably would have." Ren focused his gaze on Hux, whose face was hard and angry, but he was still here and that meant that there was hope after all. Hux motioned over his shoulder and two soldiers came running over.

"We're leaving," he remarked snidely before turning away. Ren noticed the quiet hum of the small ship just through the woods, barely audible over the roaring tides of the planet's core slipping through the closest chasm. The two soldiers brought Ren weakly to his feet, where he wanted nothing more but to push away and carry himself past Hux and his arrogance, but simply couldn't. The warm spread of blood began again, and by now he thought he'd soon lose it all.

They boarded the ship and as the soldiers moved about in preparation to clean Ren's wounds and the planet gave one last tremendous shudder, Ren spared a small moment to look back at the fuss in the snow, the place where he swore he would leave the rest of those weak, little feelings behind that had only managed to seep through out of desperation. That was it, he told himself, just desperation.


End file.
